Game Changing 1: Saving Stephen
by Sar-kaz-m
Summary: What if Connor's tendency to charge into dangerous buildings showed up several episodes earlier? Alternate Ending for Series 2. First of a Series.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This is totally because I've been reading back-fic on the LJ comm primeval_denial._

* * *

Jenny ranted about the need for a cell phone. Near her, Abby cradled poor injured Rex in her arms. Caroline sat a bit apart, looking somewhat dazed, like she'd been struck on the head.

Connor bounced lightly on his toes, unable to keep still. They'd come out of the ventilation shaft onto the roof of a two story building in the abandoned military complex. He could see the atrium where they'd entered. He even thought he saw the smilodon through the grimy windows of some double doors across the way. No doubt the entire complex was crisscrossed and connected by underground facilities.

Part of his mind mapped everywhere they'd been, inside, in relation to what he saw now. Years of memorizing complex role-playing video game worlds allowed him to create a virtual guidebook in his head, as good as any printed map. He realized he knew, absolutely knew his way around.

"Cutter is still in there," Connor pointed out flatly, cutting through Jenny's rant.

"Connor…" Abby started, but Conner waved her off.

"Go find a phone, call in back up. I'm going back for Cutter."

"No!" Jenny grabbed at him. "We'll call for back up and _then_–"

"There isn't enough time." His voice cut across hers with determination. He'd already noted the door on the roof of the building beside them, planned his moves. "I'm going," he announced, starting his run.

As he vaulted onto the top of the ventilation hood and up onto the neighboring building, he could hear all three women shouting at him, but he didn't stop. He wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him.

* * *

The alarm worked. Already they could see creatures snapping and snarling, pacing through the main pen. What Cutter didn't see was Stephen's incoming fist, slamming into his head and knocking him to the floor.

Cutter grunted when he landed, the sound masking the muffled thump of the electrical powered door sliding shut.

"Stephen! NO! Stephen, you open this door!" Cutter pounded his fists impotently against the steel.

Stephen Hart shook his head, his face sad and calmly resigned. "Tell Connor and Abby to stay out of trouble," he called.

"NO!"

From behind Cutter, another voice joined the shouting. "Professor!"

Cutter whirled to see Connor skid through the swinging doors at the other end of the hall and come charging towards him. Helen had vanished, of course.

"Stephen's trapped! You've got to open the door!" Cutter snapped at his student.

With only a brief wild glance through the porthole window, Connor grabbed the dented controller from where it dangled and pried the box open.

Stephen's eyes widened when he recognized Connor's face, and realized that if anyone could jury-rig the damaged external controls, it would be Connor. Slowly, he edged back towards the door. He'd been prepared to die, and die well, but if there was a chance to live, he'd certainly take it!

A future predator clambered down a wall beside the door, its head cocked as it clicked at him, judging him, judging the distance, probably judging if he'd taste good. Stephen paused, tensed, keeping his breath light and even, trying to keep his heart from racing. _C'mon, Connor!_ he thought, one eye on the predator, one on the door, ears on the rest of the beasts jostling for dominance behind him.

In the next moment, three things happened at once. The predator leapt. Stephen dove forward, ducking under its leap. And the door sprang open.

Faster than thought, the monster spun, lunging after Stephen to dig a claw into his ankle. He shouted in pain as Cutter grabbed his arms, dragging him through the half-open door. Stephen kicked with his other leg once, twice, three times, and the predator let go of his ankle with an offended snarl.

"NOW!" hollered Cutter, and the door slammed shut in the predator's face.

For a moment, Stephen could only pant from the pain and adrenaline. Then he rolled over with a groan to look up at Connor. "Thanks, mate," he gasped.

"No problem," Connor groaned. Then the younger man tipped sideways and collapsed slowly to the floor himself.

"Connor!" Cutter reached for the boy. Connor twitched out of his grasp, but the motion wasn't deliberate. His breath was fast and shallow, his body jerking sporadically. The scent of charred meat reached Cutter and Stephen.

"Tools at hand," Connor moaned, waggling his hands weakly. His fingers were blistered, blackened and bleeding. It even looked like his fingerless gloves had melted to his skin.

"Shit, he's electrocuted!" Stephen cried, struggling to stand.

Cutter tried lifting Connor up. The student kept muttering through his irregular panting breaths. "Electric Shock…. human body feels one milliampere…… currents near one hundred can be fatal….." Stephen dragged himself to the wall to pull himself up. He thought he spotted a broom he could use as a crutch. "Causes…..burns….. fibrillation…. neuropathy….." Connor continued weakly, like he was reciting something memorized long ago.

"Up you get, lad," Cutter encouraged him, lifting the young man up. "His heart's going a mile a minute!" He told Stephen.

Broom finally in hand, Stephen nodded. "Fibrillation. He needs a medic, now. Take him, I'll follow."

The three men made the best pace they could. Connor could barely stand, Cutter had to practically carry him. Stephen limped along behind, trailing drops of blood from his injured ankle. Just as they reached the exit, the doors burst open with a glare of sunshine containing half a dozen special forces men, locked and loaded.

"MEDIC!" Cutter yelled. Soon several hands lifted Connor, carrying him swiftly away. More hands helped Stephen. Both wounded men were quickly transported to the back of an ambulance. Connor had gone limp in the arms of the soldiers carrying him.

Female voices cried out their names as Jenny, Abby, and that Caroline person rushed towards Cutter.

"Keep clear!" the medics ordered. They divested Connor of his waistcoat, tee, and vest with remarkable speed, getting him strapped onto a gurney. "Defibs, now!" one shouted, and another leapt for the paddles and battery. "Clear!"

Abby cried out wordlessly as Connor's body arched off the gurney. The medic listened, checked, shouted "AGAIN!" The second time, Cutter had to wrap both arms around the petite blonde girl to keep her from diving towards her flat-mate. Jenny and Abby both had tears running down their faces, the other girl looked completely aghast. On the tail of the ambulance, Stephen didn't even notice as a third medic dressed his ankle, his pale face turned towards the gurney where Connor lay in mortal danger.

The first medic held up a hand, listening through his stethoscope intently. "Good, he's stabilizing. Let's go." In a coordinated move, they lifted Connor into the back of the vehicle. Stephen was also lifted in.

"Wait!" Cutter cried as the doors began to shut, though he knew they couldn't.

"I'll keep an eye on him!" Stephen shouted back as the second door slammed, and the ambulance roared away, bearing Connor and Stephen to the nearest hospital.

The sound of the sirens rang in Cutter's ears, a gristly counterpoint to the soft sobs Abby made in his arms. "What happened?" she wailed, twisting out of his embrace to stare at him accusingly.

Cutter barely registered Lester suddenly joining the group, appearing like a wraith at Jenny's elbow. No doubt he'd come with the military contingent. "We – Stephen, Helen, and I – we lured the creatures back into the pen area with the feeding bell. But… the door controls were damaged, on the outside. Stephen… he punched me. He punched me and went back in the room with the predators." Cutter's voice was weak, disbelieving, as if he wasn't hearing himself at all. "He would… they would have torn him to bits."

"Connor came for you." Jenny prompted softly, and Cutter nodded.

"I… I _ordered_ him to open the door. The controls were damaged. I don't know what he did, but the door opened, and Stephen got out, and the door shut. He… Connor… He must have used his own hands to ….." He couldn't continue, but they understood. Connor had to have held the connections together with his bare hands to make the controls work, letting electric current travel through them. They all remember the amount of power in the system inside, the hum of the electrical pens. Abby sobbed, pressing her face against the green lizard still in her arms. Cutter took two uneven steps and sat hard on the pavement. He buried his face in his hands. "Oh god. I almost lost them both today. Both my boys." Jenny knelt beside him, her arm around his shoulder as he shuddered with delayed reaction. "Those two brilliant, idiot, daft, boys."

Cutter quite never realized before this moment how very important both Stephen and Conner were to him. They were completely different, from each other and from Cutter himself, and yet they were like brother and son to him, and the day's near misses gutted Cutter. There was also Abby, another bright and bonny young person who'd made a place for herself in his life. He'd watched her stare down a smilodon today – how easily that moment could have gone wrong would haunt him in nightmares as well. They'd already almost lost Abby once recently, and that too had been Cutter's fault. And Jenny – watching her superior sneer in the face of Helen's madness had made his heart leap with pride and affection. She became her own person in his mind in that moment – Claudia Brown would never have stood up to Helen so boldly.

That woman's voice soothed him now. "They're going to be fine, Nick. You heard the medic – Connor is stable now, and Stephen's just going to have to live with some crutches for a bit. They're fine." Not even 24 hours ago, Cutter had held a gun to her face, and now she comforted him.

"It was too close. Too, too close." Cutter shook his head. They'd all played fast and loose with their own lives. It had to stop. He had to stop risking the people he cared about.

"In this situation, I don't think a trip to the hospital for all involved would go amiss." Lester announced brusquely. He detailed a lieutenant to drive the remaining team-members.

* * *

Stephen paced in the A&E, or at least, paced as well as one could with a pound of bandages around one's ankle and a pair of crutches. He'd tried demanding to know Connor's status, and been soundly ignored by the purse-lipped nursing staff.

Finally, a doctor appeared through the double doors. "Anyone for Connor Temple?"

"Me!" Stephen swung himself forward.

"Are you family?"

"Yes," Stephen delivered a bald faced lie that was also instantly truth, "He's my little brother."

The doctor nodded, buying it. "Well, his heart rhythm and rate has stabilized, as has his breathing. He's still unconscious, though his optical responses appear normal. We'll wait until he wakes up naturally before trying to determine the extent of the neurological damage he may have sustained."

"Neurological? Like what?"

"I'd prefer not to speculate, however with an electrical shock like this, we could see anything from loss of sensation, to cognitive disorders. We won't be sure of the extent of the damage until he wakes up. In addition, we can't really test sensation in his extremities until the burns on his hands heal. He could have sustained nerve damage in his fingers simply from the burns."

The news settled like a lump in Stephen's stomach. In his mind, a pessimistic image of a vegetative Connor appeared. Sure, he'd always seen the kid as an annoying geek, but Connor was also smart, and energetic. The idea of Connor reduced to a still, damaged, shadow of himself was extremely disturbing.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain exactly what happened to your brother, Mr. Temple?" The doctor asked Stephen pointedly.

Before Stephen could even begin to frame a plausible lie, Sir James Lester's voice rang across the room. "I believe I can explain everything for you, Doctor." The government man appeared and smoothly pulled the physician away, his tones almost hypnotic as he calmly explained why no official incident reports would be filed for Mr. Connor Temple's 'unfortunate home improvement accident'.

The rest of the ARC team was on Lester's heels. Cutter immediately grasped Stephen's arm. "You're alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Some weeks in a brace, physical therapy, blah blah."

"Connor?" Abby asked, breathless with worry.

With a hard swallow, Stephen passed on what the doctor had told him, and the whole team looked grim with the dark possibilities. Abby in particular seemed horrified, but it was clear it wasn't simply from the difficulties of sharing a flat – it was from pure care and concern. Stephen wondered if this would be the final push that put Abby over the edge and into Connor's arms, where pretty much everyone except Abby expected her to land.

"The most important thing," Jenny reminded them all, "is that he's alive. He'll wake up. We'll deal with any injuries once we know what they are." She became the voice of calm and reason for the team.

"Nick – I'm sorry," Stephen blurted suddenly. "I should have trusted you. I shouldn't have listened to _her_." Cutter stared at him. It was the first time Stephen had simply apologized. "I was a stupid kid with stars in my eyes when we.. when she… "

Cutter waved a hand to cut him off. "She betrayed us both in many ways, Stephen. I shouldn't have let _ancient history_," he used the term wryly. "Pull the team apart like I did."

There was a moment of silence, and then Abby snorted softly. "They're not going to hug or anything," she told Jenny, "if that's what you're waiting for." Stephen and Cutter both chuckled, as Stephen reached out with one arm to wrap it around Abby's shoulders.

"Where's Rex?" he asked.

"In the car still, with Lieutenant Wilson."

"Abby threatened to unman him if he let Rex escape," Jenny said.

Stephen laughed. "She didn't!"

"Oh, she did," Cutter confirmed with a grin at the feisty blonde behaviorist. "She was very… vivid."

The team all laughed together, letting go of months of tension, though still worried for their last colleague. At least they were getting back on track. It might still take some time for the trust to rebuild, particularly between Cutter and Stephen, but they had all lived to fight another day

"Mr Temple?" a nurse asked, and it took Stephen a second to remember how he'd lied.

"Yes! Yes, that's me," he told her, ignoring the amused surprise on the faces of the team.

"Your brother's awake. The doctor is with him now, but you can see him shortly." That set off a general stampede, which made the nurse wave her arms at them. "One at a time! One at a time! He's still very weak."

Stephen hesitated, glancing at Cutter, then Abby. Abby gave him an encouraging nod, letting him maintain his lie with the hospital staff. Stephen swung himself down the hall after the nurse, following her to the observation room where they'd put Connor. The doctor was just leaving, his face a professional mask which told Stephen nothing.

The younger man in the bed looked as pale as the hospital sheets, his hair a slash of darkness across the pillow. His hands were heavily bandaged, and there were a number of wires and tubes leading from his body to various monitoring machines. The steady beep of the heart monitor reassured Stephen, despite Connor's unnatural stillness. Stephen moved closer, the crutches making uneven thumps against the tile floor. Connor's eyes fluttered open at the noise. He blinked once slowly, then gave Stephen a weak smile.

"Hey," Stephen said softly, smiling back. "How are you feeling?"

"Fried," Connor answered hoarsely, humor glinting in his tired face. Stephen snickered. Only Connor would joke about getting electrocuted twice. "You?"

"Clawed up, but only a little," Stephen joshed back. Connor chuckled softly. "Everyone is out in the lobby, worried about you."

"Yeah?" It seemed like Connor only had so much energy – even only a few words appeared to take so much effort. "They said my brother was here."

"That would be me," Stephen confirmed, and Connor's smile got a little wider.

"Mum likes me better," he said with a little sing-song note in his tired voice.

"I'm sure she does," Stephen laughed. "I'm going to let the others come in, one at a time, alright?" Connor nodded. "And Conn? Thanks again, mate."

"Anytime."

"God I hope you don't mean that," Stephen said over his shoulder as he lurched his way out of the room and back to the lobby. When he reached it, he looked over the others. "Seems okay. Next?"

Abby leapt to her feet, beating Cutter by barely a second, and hurried down the hall. Stephen grinned at Cutter. "You snooze, you lose," he said merrily.

"How does he seem?" Jenny asked.

"Fine, actually. He was making jokes."

Jenny cocked her head. "But would he be honest with you?"

Stephen blinked. It never occurred to him that Connor would lie. Why would Connor hide his condition from them?

* * *

"Hey," Abby said softly as she laid her hands gently on Connor's arm. He smiled up at her.

"Hi. How's Rex?"

She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to shake him and scold him for running back into that building, with who knew how many predators running loose, and then using his own body as jumper cables. She wanted to vent all her fear for him through anger. She wanted to get rid of the terrible memory of his body arching off the gurney as the medics reset his heart beat.

Instead, she gave him a slightly watery smile and answered, "He's fine. Just nicked, really."

"That's good."

"Are you hurting?"

Connor winced. "Yeah. But the doctor said the muscle relaxers should help." She could feel his arm muscles twitching occasionally under her hands. Those involuntary spasms must be running through his whole body.

"Well, you should just relax and enjoy as much time off as you can get, yeah?" Abby joked lightly. "It's not like we get regular days off."

"Yeah, a break would be nice," he agreed.

Abby bit her lip, then rested one hand over Connor's heart as she leaned over him to place a light kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to go now and let Cutter come see you," she said quietly, relieved at the steady beat she felt under her palm. His smile was soft and affectionate for her, until she mentioned Cutter. Then he frowned.

"Um, actually, I think I'm going to fall asleep here," he said uncomfortably.

"You don't want Cutter to come in?"

"Nah, I'm just… wiped out, you know? Doctor says I should get lots of rest."

Confused, Abby nodded. "Okay. I'll tell the others you're asleep."

"Thanks, Abbs."

"I'll see you soon," she told him, giving his arm a last squeeze.

* * *

Back in the lobby, when told he couldn't go see Connor, for a moment a tragic expression crossed Cutter's face that made Abby sorry to see it. But the man schooled his expression a moment later. "It's probably for the best," Cutter conceded. "He'll need his strength for all the testing they'll want to do." As reasonable as he sounded, a note of disappointment threaded through his words.

"Just as well. I need you all back at base," Lester announced brusquely. "Our people are handling the situation inside the facility, but we need to determine what to do with the ahem.. _giant turtle_, which fortunately Lieutenant Smythe recognized as harmless. Right now they have it contained."

"Oh!" Abby remembered the scutosaurus. "Can't we put it in with… um… Fluffy?"

Stephen couldn't restrain his snort of laughter. She'd dubbed the mammoth _Fluffy?_

"We should keep them separate, just in case," Cutter said.

"We'll discuss options back at base. Shall we then?" Lester turned on a heel and left the A&E, Jenny quickly following on his heels.

Abby, Stephen, and Cutter exchanged glances. "You can go?" Cutter asked Stephen.

"Yeah, I'm stitched and bandaged, free to go. Maybe one of us should stay." They both looked at Abby, who shook her head.

"He's asleep. We can come back tomorrow." She didn't want to tell them that she had the sneaking suspicion that Connor had hidden something from all of them.

* * *

The doctor cleared his throat as he entered the observation room, and Connor turned his head to gaze at him. "Now that the relaxers have kicked in, let's try this again, shall we?" the doctor said, and Connor gave a resigned nod.

The doctor flipped up the sheets at the bottom of the bed to expose Connor's feet. "Tell me what you feel," he directed, as he took hold of one ankle, and pressed a wooden tongue depressor against the bare skin of Connor's foot.

"Nothing," Connor said with a sigh. The doctor moved to the other foot. "Nothing." He could see the doctor move to his calf, but couldn't feel it. "Nothing." The backs of his knees. "Nothing." Connor's voice turned hoarse with suppressed panic.

"Alright, I think that's enough for now." The doctor readjusted the sheets to cover the young man warmly and comfortably. "It may just take some time. Get some sleep, we'll check again in the morning, do some tests."

* * *

_to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning after taking a cab to the ARC, Stephen went straight down to the armory to talk with the sergeant in charge. He wanted a weapon – light weight, soft smooth trigger action, minimal recoil. They talked a long time about options, until finally they hit upon a solution that Stephen thought would work well for starters. With thanks and a grin, the zoologist headed back up to the main ARC floor. He'd just assumed, after everything that had happened yesterday, that he had his job back, and no-one seemed to disagree with that assumption. The security personnel had greeted him equably. Apparently Stephen's credentials had not yet been cancelled.

Abby looked up at him in surprise from her desk. "Hey! What are you doing here so early?" She did look nonplussed to see him, but her grin was as welcoming as could be.

Stephen smirked. "Oh, working on something."

"Really?" Abby's expression showed her amused disbelief, but Stephen wasn't about to give any details away.

Cutter walked quickly through the main floor, waving an arm at them. "Let's go," he ordered, leading the others up the ramp to Lester's office. For once, Stephen was glad of that ridiculous ramp-way. It certainly made it easier to get up there with crutches.

Once in Lester's office, Cutter gave Stephen a look, and then said to Lester, "He's back," with a thumb to the injured man. It was a statement of fact, not a question or request.

"Of course," Lester answered dryly, with a slight roll of his eyes.

The team settled in to seats facing their boss, who leaned back in his chair and surveyed them. Jenny stood nearby, arms crossed and expression blank. "Well, professor?" Lester drawled. "You wanted this meeting."

Cutter stood, and began pacing. "We need to change how we operate. We've been taking too many risks. We also…. I also have not been terribly forthcoming with my theories." They all exchanged glances at this. Certainly Cutter could have simply told them when he suspected a mole. He also could have been clearer about lots of things. "We need to get our responsibilities defined. We also need to firm up our response to the anomalies."

Lester gave Cutter a considering look. "What exactly do you mean?"

Cutter grimaced. "I still want to try to protect these creatures when they come through, rather than killing them. But ….. well, for example, Stephen, Abby, would you say that once a predator understands that humans can be food, they lose fear of humans?"

"Absolutely," Stephen answered as Abby nodded. "That's the problem in India and Borneo, with the tigers."

"Right. So with our predators, we have the problem that once they know we're easy pickings, they're that much more dangerous. Also, because of relative sizes, almost anything that comes through is going to at least try to kill a human, and then the real problems begin."

"Are you authorizing lethal force against creatures?" Lester asked with faint disbelief in his voice.

With hesitation, Cutter admitted, "I'm saying that I will be …. quicker…than I have been in authorizing deadly force."

Abby and Stephen blinked at each other. Something had clearly changed in Cutter's head.

"I'm sorry, I must not have heard you clearly." Lester sat forward in his chair. "So, what are you proposing?"

"I'm proposing leaving the dangerous stuff to the people trained for it, your pet SAS forces." Cutter snapped. "We're scientists, not action film heroes, and we should start acting like scientists and stop acting like fools."

Stephen knew Nick better than anyone, and could see just how much yesterday had shaken him. Plus, eventually, Stephen expected to find out exactly what had happened to Leek. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good, and would probably be haunting Nick.

"Would you care to amplify your ideas for us?" Lester asked dryly.

Cutter nodded sharply. "Find me a military man like Captain Ryan. I want your soldiers in with us, not waiting to be called in. I want you to authorize the expenses for Connor to build another scout robot, a better one. Abby, I want you to go over all our reports, start getting an idea of exactly what tranquillizer dosages we need for various sized creatures. Stephen, you can help her with that – I know you've observed some differences in metabolism. I want a standard kit put together and in every vehicle, replenished after every anomaly." He hesitated, then said, "I want Connor off the field team."

"What?" Abby cried.

Stephen shook his head. "Cutter – seriously, kick the kid while he's down, why don't you?"

Cutter scowled. "He can't handle himself."

"Yes he can," Abby insisted.

"What if I train him?" Stephen offered. "I've already been looking into weapons to get him started." Abby's sharp look told him she'd just figured out his early morning errand. "Truth is, we haven't given him the chance to learn."

"I hate to say this, but I find myself agreeing with Hart, as much as it pains me to do so," Lester added. "It seems the four of you work best as a unit, and I dislike meddling with arrangements that work, however mysteriously and strangely." He made a note on a pad. "I can arrange technicians to follow Temple's instructions for building the scout, and managing the ADD, but frankly…" He leveled a sardonic look at Cutter. "Where would Hart be now if you'd benched Temple before yesterday?"

Cutter's expression turned black with anger. "That's irrelevant."

"Is it?" Stephen asked. "I knew as soon as I saw him that he'd get the door open."

Cutter fumed quietly. Stephen knew what he was doing; he wanted to protect Connor, but taking the kid off the team would only hurt the kid more. "Nick, leave it. He's proved himself. He's saved Abby, he saved me. He's earned it."

After a moment, Cutter sighed. "Fine. Fine. But you're getting him up to speed on the guns, Stephen. No more shooting Abby by accident!" Stephen grinned at him.

Cutter had more ideas, which they all discussed, about trying to analyze the incidences of anomalies, to try and see if there's a pattern. The temporal fault line theory was rehashed, and Cutter promised if any more strokes of brilliance occurred to him, he'd let the entire team know.

Lester cleared his throat and spoke. "I would like to schedule a time to discuss certain… ambivalences... I've seen amongst the team regarding our mission here." His eyes went to Stephen, and no-one in the room doubted what Lester meant.

Stephen himself let out a sigh. "I was duped, alright? I only thought going public would be useful because _someone_ was using our work for less than honorable purposes. And frankly, I assumed it was you." He told Lester bluntly. "Someone was – Helen. And Leek. What do you want me to do, beat my breast and cry _mea culpa_?"

While the idea seemed to appeal to Lester, the government official let it slide. "Jenny, please forward a copy of that memo on possible media and public responses you worked up a few months ago to all members of the team? I think the pattern of …. hysteria….you predicted is well worth consideration." His cool implication that he and Jenny had already considered and rejected going public might have shamed Stephen a little, if his tone had been any less smug and insufferable.

* * *

Just after lunch, Cutter appeared in the break room, blocking Stephen's exit. The former lab assistant gave his professor an inquiring look.

"Since when do you have Connor's back?" Cutter asked abruptly.

Stephen frowned. "I've always had his back. Someone had to watch out for him. But my defending him this morning… Cutter, he's earned his place. And yeah, I'm grateful he got me out of that room. I was prepared to die, I didn't _want_ to."

Cutter's expression went blank. "I didn't want you to either."

Though not exactly a ringing expression of friendship, Stephen appreciated the sentiment. "Look… things are certainly a mess between you and me. Can we at least try to work it out this time?"

Cutter nodded, though still not really meeting Stephen's eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, we should do that."

Another minute passed in silence before Cutter suddenly turned, "So, I've got this –" he vaguely tossed a thumb back over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I should finish these…"

Cutter left, and Stephen sighed. _Worse than a wounded rhino, that one_, he thought. He'd be tip-toeing around the prickly professor for weeks, but with luck, they could put this all behind them.

* * *

The MRI was an unnerving experience. Connor had never liked small enclosed spaces. The buzzing and the thunking noises echoed in the human-sized tube. He could only close his eyes and try not to shiver or hyperventilate.

The morning had shown him that he had sensation down to about mid thigh. Then it just vanished. He could see his legs. He could look down and see his feet looking perfectly normal. But he couldn't feel them, and couldn't move them. He could even see the muscle of his calf jump with the twitches that still plagued him, but felt nothing.

It terrified him.

Back in his room, he asked the doctor, "Is it going to come back?"

The doctor frowned. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mr. Temple. We have to take a look at the results of the MRI first. If there's definite damage, surgery may be an option. But depending on the sort of damage, it may not. There is also the possibility that sensation will come back simply with time."

"My job.." Connor said worriedly.

"You're going to be on disability for some time. I am going to arrange for someone from Physical Therapy to come up, to work your legs in hopes that it helps. Were your hands not damaged, I'd be prepared to release you by the end of the week, given that you will not need any living assistance beyond mobility, but you wouldn't be able to handle a wheelchair right now."

"A wheelchair!"

"Mr Temple, you have no sensation in your legs. You certainly cannot walk. Frankly, you should be thankful you're not more impaired."

That afternoon, a smiling and disgustingly fit fellow who called himself Mike showed up from Physical Therapy. He talked to Connor briefly, commiserating about his injuries, before proceeding to push and pull against Connor's legs in ways that had he had sensation, Connor was sure he would've been mortally embarrassed.

Mike was gently pushing Connor's leg up, knee to chest, for the last exercise, urging him to speak up if he felt any stretch or pain, when Abby appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped.

"Abby!" Connor yelped. Mike eased his leg back down and glanced at her.

"This your girl?" Mike asked cheerfully.

"Flat-mate." Connor answered quickly.

"Oh, good. I should show her some of these exercises so she can help you with them, sometime."

"Are we done?" Connor asked desperately, unable to keep the blush from his cheeks. Abby still hadn't said anything.

"We're done. I'll see you tomorrow." Mike blithely rearranged Connor's sheets and waved goodbye.

Abby silently made way to let him pass. She had Connor's messenger bag over her shoulder. She stared at him.

"Hey," Connor said nervously.

"Why was he working your legs?" She asked.

"Um, because they need it?"

"Why, Connor?"

He winced. He knew he couldn't have hidden it from Abby of all people. He was terrified he'd loose his place at the ARC, now that he couldn't walk. He'd not said it yet, and trying to do so made the panic well up again. He took a few deep breaths, struggling to suppress the fear. "I – I can't – I can't feel my legs."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh god, Connor!" To his everlasting surprise, she rushed to his side, tossing the bag on the chair, and she leaned over him to hug him. "It'll come back right? I mean, you're not… you're not paralyzed are you?"

"They don't know yet. I had an MRI this morning. Until the results come, they don't… I don't know."

She sniffed, not actually crying, but her face showed the same fear and distress he felt. "What'll – will they keep you here?"

"I don't know, Abby! I don't know anything, OK? I ran a thousand volts through myself, burned all the skin off my fingers, screwed up my own heartbeat. They can't even give me a stress test to make sure I don't have an arrhythmia now until I can move, and I can't move until I can at least wheel myself around in a chair, which I can't do now because I burned my hands!" He was shouting by the end, all his fear coming out as anger. "I'm like a paraplegic just now, alright? I don't know what's going to happen to me."

He expected her to storm out. The last time he'd yelled at Abby, she'd ended up nearly dying at the hands of future sea-creatures, and he'd superstitiously vowed to himself never to fight with her again. Besides, Abby never took crap from anyone, and she certainly wouldn't take it from Connor.

But instead of turning away from him, she just leaned over him again and hugged him hard.

* * *

Outside in the hall, Cutter let out a whooshing breath. He and Abby had come to the hospital together, and Cutter dropped her off while he found a parking space. He'd come down the hall just in time to overhear Connor's yelling about his condition.

Guilt stabbed through him. Cutter distinctly remembered _telling_ Connor to get that door open. He hadn't considered what it would take, what Connor would have to do to follow that order. The risk had been enormous. Connor could have very well died to save Stephen, all because Cutter told him to.

The responsibility for the young man's life rested squarely on Cutter's shoulders. Cutter had always accepted Connor's presence on the team grudgingly, treating the student as if he wasn't worthy of working with the rest of them. That egotistical dismissal of Connor's worth almost allowed Cutter sacrifice Connor for Stephen. The realization of that horrified Cutter. When had he begun to be as ruthless as his ex-wife? And yet Connor had made huge contributions to the team, in knowledge and technology. Cutter was ashamed that it took nearly losing the young man for him to recognize it.

In the observation room, Abby was speaking again. "No matter what happens, Conn, we'll get through it. We'll… we'll put ramps in the flat. I'll trade rooms with you, alright? Or maybe we can move somewhere that'll work better."

"Abby –" Connor's tone was resigned. "Abbs, let's face it. It's not just the flat. I'm out of the ARC now."

"No you're not! How can you think that?"

"C'mon, really. I can't go into the field like this. What the hell good am I anyway, except back up? And frankly, just about anyone can do the tech stuff, and probably better."

Cutter couldn't take hearing the young man's low opinion of himself. And he knew a cue when he heard one. Stepping into the room, he announced himself by saying, "You are absolutely NOT off the team, Connor."

Connor turned pale at being overheard, his expression one of surprise and dismay. "P-Professor!" he stammered.

"I once told Lester that you had a very good brain." Well, he remembered telling Lester that. He hoped he'd done the same in this timeline. "I'm going to need you to exercise it in the near future."

"But–" Connor lifted bandaged hands. Every finger was splinted and wrapped, right to his wrists.

"There's software, isn't there, that lets you speak into a microphone and turns it into text? We'll get it for you. I'm going to need you, Connor." The young man looked like this was the last thing he'd expected to hear. "We have to start being pro-active. I'll want you to re-read all the reports of all the anomalies we've dealt with so far, to analyze them, see if there's something we missed. Maybe a pattern, or something about the anomalies themselves. We've been remiss, not taking the readings on all of them, like you did for the one in the underground." That anomaly had been handled with Claudia Brown, but from Connor's nod, he remembered it. "We haven't been behaving like scientists. That's going to change. I'm going to need you, Connor. You sometimes have…. flashes of insight." Cutter wasn't about to lay on the false praise, but that was the truth.

"The database," Abby said suddenly.

"What?" Connor asked.

"Cutter, you assigned me the tranquillizer analysis this morning. What if we added that information to Connor's prehistoric creature database? And…. you mentioned the robot too. Would there be a way to feed information right into the database?" She turned to Connor. "If we can compile everything we know, then we can have a fast reference, so we're not guessing all the time on how to deal with creatures."

Connor's expression turned thoughtful. "Then… we could have a second team."

"What?" Cutter exclaimed.

"Well, think about it. We've been doing everything because we're the only ones who know, and because we're the original discoverers of the anomalies. But Lester found all the lab technicians and troops to help with security, disposal, dissections, and everything in the ARC…. who's to say he couldn't find a couple more zoologists for a second team? Then it's not always us running around out there…"

Abby sighed a little dreamily. "We could have a holiday once in a while!"

Both Cutter and Connor grinned at her thought.

"But it would also allow us to focus on predicting and maybe stopping these anomalies," Cutter said, going off Connor's ideas. "We've never had time to just try to understand the anomalies themselves."

Connor nodded. "If we could predict them…" his voice trailed off, entranced with the possibilities.

Cutter reached out to give Connor's shoulder a squeeze. "This is what I'm talking about. But for now, while you have some time to lay about until the doctors release you –" From his jacket pocket, Cutter produced a book, a battered and leather-bound copy of _The Origin of Species _that he'd owned for years. "You might as well get in some rereading of your foundation material. Eventually I'm going to make you rewrite your dissertation, you know."

Connor gaped a moment, and then threw back his head and laughed, loud and long. "Am I even a registered student anymore?" he gasped through his chuckles. Abby and Cutter grinned along with him, both relieved to see him shake off his despondency at last.

"I'm not sure. I'll have Lester pull some strings." Cutter told him.

* * *

In a move of remarkable consideration, Lester came down from on high to speak with Stephen in the zoologist's office. Nothing had been changed or moved since Cutter had fired Stephen three days ago. In fact, it was more like the zoologist had simply taken a few days off. None of the other ARC staffers seemed to find anything odd about his return.

Lester paused a moment, surveying the space while Stephen waited for him to speak. "I presume you have by now read Ms. Lewis's projections?" the official asked.

Stephen nodded. "Yeah. Hysteria is putting it mildly." Jenny had not only outlined a scenario in which the government went to war with itself over the situation, but media outlets both staking out and interfering with ARC operations, fanatical animal-rights protests, and possible threats to the ARC personnel. In addition, she predicted thrill-seekers showing up at anomaly sites to either photograph or hunt the creatures, or try to go through the anomalies themselves. She predicted interference from foreign governments, and added personal danger both to and from the general public. She speculated on the reactions of religious groups as well, given the hard proof of the theory of evolution over creationism. A mass outcry from the scientific community would be expected as well, protesting government involvement at all.

In all, a disastrous mess that would only cause more problems than it solved. The more sensible solution really was to quietly handle the anomalies with as little impact on the modern world as possible, just as they have been doing, along with tightening their security within the ARC as well. Jenny had added an addendum to the email she sent the team, indicating she would be open to suggestions on security. Her initial thought involved comprehensive background checks for any new personnel.

"Do you have any questions or concerns?" Lester asked formally.

"No," Stephen admitted. Frankly, he had to concede that Jenny knew far more about how the public might react to the situation than he. It was a lesson in trusting the team for Stephen – everyone had their areas of expertise, and he should leave them to handle it.

"Very well then." Lester turned to leave, but looked back at the last moment. "You really think you can teach Temple to handle a gun?"

Stephen snickered. "Yeah. Twenty quid he turns out a better shot than Cutter."

Lester raised one cool eyebrow. "I believe I'll take that bet."

"Hey!" Stephen called before the man could walk away. "About the Special Forces appointment."

"Yes?"

Stephen grimaced. "Try to find someone with a sense of humor."

Lester only shot him a sardonic look at that.

* * *

_to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

The fifth day after the events in Leek's secret bunker, Connor woke up with a cramp in his left leg.

"Crap," he muttered, judging he must have slept funny, and without a thought, kicked the leg around a little to loosen it up. Then he remembered. "Hey!"

Sitting up, he hit the call-button for a nurse. When the woman entered the room, he shouted, "I can feel my leg!" with a wide grin.

The nurse laughed and said she'd call his doctor.

* * *

Abby bounced into the ARC with a wide smile on her face. Cutter and Stephen looked up in surprise. "I've just heard from Connor!" she cried, waving her cell phone around. "He's got feeling back in one of his legs."

"Excellent!" Cutter smiled.

"So they think he'll make a full recovery after all?" Stephen asked. Cutter and Abby had filled him and Jenny in on Connor's condition. Jenny had begun preparing full disability support for Connor, and also started a search for a new flat for Connor and Abby, just in case.

"It seems so. Connor said it feels like a cramp with pins and needles, but at least there's sensation. He's still going to be on muscle relaxers and pain medication for a while, though."

"Go tell Jenny," Cutter told her, and Abby ran off to the woman's office to share the good news.

"That's so great," Stephen said with relief, and Cutter nodded in agreement. Connor had told them that the MRI results indicated no actual damage to his nervous system. He simply had to wait for sensation to return. As for his hands, the hospital had given them a treatment where in all the burned layers of skin had been removed, and though it would take time, new skin would grow instead of crippling scar tissue. He'd had the dressings changed once, and claimed his fingers looked like raw meat. His enthusiastic horror-movie-like description had turned Abby green.

Stephen and Cutter were brainstorming all the ways they could improve the team's response to the anomalies. Not just by letting the military personnel do their jobs, but also what sort of scientific equipment they should be bringing to anomaly sites, to try and learn more about them.

Just as they were getting into various telemetry devices, the blaring alarm of the Anomaly Detection Devise began to shriek.

"Someone!" Cutter yelled, looking around for any of Connor's techies. A young asian woman slipped into the chair and narrowed the site down to a sports complex in Surrey. "Great, lets…" Cutter trailed off. The whole team looked at each other in sudden surprise. No Connor, and Stephen couldn't be in the field with his crutches. "Who?"

"Cutter, Jenny, and Abby, of course," Lester ordered coolly. "Also, Lieutentants Smythe and Wilson."

Cutter nodded. The two SAS men were well known to the core ARC team and competent. Cutter suspected one of them would become the main military man for the group, so this made a nice try-out.

They loaded up two trucks, ARC team in one, military men in the other, and headed out.

Halfway there, Abby muttered, "This is weird."

Jenny nodded. "It is."

"Look, nothing changes for now. Jenny, you keep the public out. Abby, you and I will find the anomaly, with Smythe and Wilson, determine if there are creatures, and handle it."

Abby nodded grimly.

At the site, the anomaly hung in a thankfully unused tennis court. Even luckier, the gate had been closed, so the creature that _had_ stumbled through was contained, though not at all happy about it.

The bandy-legged squat creature snarled at them as they approached the fence.

"Right, that's the biggest Taz I've ever seen," commented Wilson dryly.

"It's not a Tasmanian devil, though I see the resemblance," Cutter answered, his voice distant with fascination.

"Sounds like one," Abby interjected.

"It's a _repenomamus,_" Cutter told them. "One of the largest mammals known from the Cretaceous era.

"Cretaceous?" Abby said. "Isn't that like, the time of raptors and T. Rex, and other nasties?"

"Yes, but this fellow is a mammal that ate smaller reptilians. Fossils of _Repenomamus _have been found with remains of smaller creatures in its stomach."

"Like a badger," Smythe said suddenly. "A nasty solitary fellow."

"Quite," Cutter answered, amused.

"So, what's our move?" Wilson asked.

"Well, we're taller… we might be able to intimidate it into retreating through the anomaly," Abby suggested.

With much shouting and banging of trashcans and shooting skyward, the bad-tempered creature was eventually chased back through the anomaly. The team retreated back outside the fence and settled in to make sure nothing else came through before the anomaly collapsed. Cutter in particular frowned at it as he thought.

"What's up?" Abby asked.

"_Repenomamus_ remains have mostly been found in China. England is an old island – it's unlikely that there were any _repenomamus_ of that size found here during the Cretaceous."

"So?"

"So the anomalies don't only tear through time, they jump halfway around the planet."

Abby gaped at him. She'd never thought about that factor.

"In addition," Cutter went on, "we almost always have a creature incursion of some sort… but our climate is different. We're colder, and our atmosphere has a third less oxygenation than the Cretaceous. Plus most early mammals were nocturnal. Why would it appeal to cross through an unknown shimmering light into an ecosystem not at all suitable?"

* * *

At Abby's urging, Cutter called Connor in the hospital to relay his thoughts. Connor was disappointed to have missed the _repenomamus, _and suggested that cameras be added to the standard kit. Then he settled in to do some research about prehistoric geology, carefully using his laptop with very slow and gentle single-splinted-finger typing.

After several hours, another visit from the irrepressible Mike from Physical Therapy, and much frustrated chewing on his lip, Connor looked up to see Abby and Stephen had come to visit.

"Hey little brother," Stephen said cheerfully, and Connor suspected he'd just come in for even more teasing than before. "How are you doing?"

"Much better. The pins-and-needles feeling is going away, though the left leg is still really achy and sore."

"How about the right?" Abby asked.

"Nothing yet, but the left coming back is a good sign."

They talked a little about Cutter's proposed changes and what they were working on. Connor told them what he'd found out regarding the latest realization of the anomalies' spatial divergence.

"Maybe they're wormholes," Stephen suggested facetiously.

"Nah, no spinning sensation, right, Conn?" Abby joked back. Connor just stared at her. "Conn?"

"Spinning… the earth spins!"

"What?"

Connor let out a groan and started banging on his temples with the healthy heels of his hands. "Global rotation…. relative landmass location…. shit, how many times has the earth reversed the geomagnetic poles? Axial shifts….are the anomalies linking periods of extreme tectonic activity? Give me the laptop!"

Abby handed him the computer, and he began a web search. After a few minutes of watching Connor's muttering and reading, Abby and Stephen exchanged glances.

"We've lost him, haven't we?" Stephen observed.

"I think so. Conn? Connor?" The younger man blinked up at Abby. "We'll leave you to it, yeah?"

"Oh. Right, sorry Abbs. This could be useful."

Stephen and Abby made their goodbyes, Abby giving Connor a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"Does his doctor know how much he's typing?" Jenny asked with concern the next day. The team, including Lester, was looking at a presentation Connor had generated and emailed from his hospital room. Connor had developed a theory that the spatial difference in where the anomalies led to had to do with the relative geological position of the earth then as compared to now. That would explain how the team could have encountered _repenomamus_ from China and _deinonychus_ from the North American continent, both Cretaceous era creatures. His presentation was full of suggestions about bringing in paleo-geologists and astronomers. If they could get night-sky images on the other side of anomalies with his soon-to-be-built robot scout, they could get much better ideas on the exact times the anomalies led to.

However, Jenny's concern has some legitimacy. The young man was supposed to be letting his hands heal. It appeared Connor was working harder than ever from his hospital bed.

"Frankly, if we can get this sort of information out of him, I'd consider keeping him tied down," Lester sneered. "This is one of the best presentations of scientific theory and suggestions I've seen out of any of you."

Abby grinned. "He's bored. That's the problem."

"It's not a problem if it makes him start thinking scientifically," Cutter responded absently, reviewing a slide displaying a graphic connecting anomaly sites in the UK to their geographic destination world wide.

Abby shot a look at Stephen, who only grinned. He well remembered the abuse and insults Cutter had heaped on him for ill-thought-out theories when he was a student himself, and Stephen doubted the approach would change for Connor. Students had to prove they had brains and knew how to use them, in Professor Nick Cutter's book.

"This is definitely something to start with," Cutter continued, still half-absorbed in reviewing the research presented.

"Very well, then, since we've lost the good Professor, I suggest the rest of you make yourselves busy elsewhere." Lester shooed them all out of his office. Cutter drifted away, Stephen slowly following with a bemused expression.

Abby turned to Jenny. "I'm headed over to the hospital after work, if you want to come."

Jenny blinked. "Do you think I should?"

"Yeah. Connor would love to see you." Abby cocked her head. "Why haven't you stopped by before?"

"I don't know…. I suppose I thought…"

"Jenny," Abby placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "You're part of the team too, you know."

Jenny found herself laughing a great deal that evening, playing poker for biscuits with Abby and Connor at the hospital.

* * *

The ARC medical personnel reviewed Stephen's injuries, checked his progress, and ten days after the incident in Leek's bunker, judged he could leave off using the crutches. He had to keep a brace on, and he met with a medic daily to do some exercises.

That same day, the bandages on Connor's hands were changed to a lighter protective covering. The growing skin itched, and he had to apply a steroid cream and wear gloves and resist scratching them. The sensation in his left leg had come back entirely, and enough of his right had returned that he could get around with assistance. If his palms were better, he could have been discharged with crutches or a cane, but the doctors were being cautious. Fortunately, the itching indicated he hadn't done any permanent nerve damage to his hands.

During the first anomaly alert with Stephen back in the field, a large brace on his ankle, Abby shook her head at the way Cutter and Stephen grinned at each other over a quartet of _steropodon._ They'd been extraordinarily lucky lately. This was only the second alert since Leek's bunker, and again only essentially harmless creatures had come through. She wondered how long their luck would hold out.

If all went well, in three days she'd collect Connor and take him home at last. She couldn't wait. After never wanting a flat-mate in the first place, the weeks without him had taught Abby exactly how lonely her life had been before the anomalies and Connor. Even Rex missed him, she thought.

Cutter agonized over sending the fuzzy proto-platypodes back – modern science had such little information about these creatures, merely a few teeth and a single jawbone. But this particular anomaly fluctuated greatly throughout its magnetic field, and they didn't want to risk stranding the creatures in the modern era. Stephen made jokes about 'design by committee' as they chased the funny things back through the anomaly. They were cuter than the dodos, in Abby's opinion.

* * *

"Oh thank god, at last," Connor gasped, falling face first into the sofa, and letting his cane fall on the floor with a clatter. Abby laughed at him. "I'm so glad to be home," he said into the cushion, his voice muffled.

"Sit properly, I'll bring you some tea," she offered.

"You're a bloody angel, you are. An angel! Can we have pizza tonight? I've become a stick from that awful hospital food."

Abby kept laughing as she put on the tea. She heard him greet Rex cheerfully. It seemed right, to hear him about the flat. She'd genuinely missed him. It had been strange and lonely and oddly uncomfortable, worse than when he was off dating Caroline…

"Conn? Did anyone tell you what happened to Caroline?" she called.

Dead silence greeted her. She returned to the living room to see him sitting upright and frozen on the sofa.

"Conn?"

"I don't care."

Abby crossed to him. "Conn…"

"I don't care, Abby. I don't. She was paid to date me. She led us all into danger. She almost killed Rex – you were right, she had to have put Rex in the fridge. Then she stole him. I don't care what happens to Caroline, and I don't want to know." His miserable expression told her that he carried a lot of guilt inside, for being so foolish as to trust the trendy young woman.

Abby tried to think of something to say as she sat next to him. The woman in question had been given a suspended sentence for espionage, was on probation, and had restraining orders against her to keep her away from Connor or Abby, and the ARC, and injunctions that said if she went to the press, her sentence would be reinstated.

"She left me a voice mail, the day after." Connor said abruptly, in a very small voice. "She said she was sorry. She hoped I might call her. I didn't. I won't." Resentment didn't suit Connor very well.

The whistle of the kettle shattered the moment, and Abby went to set the tea to steep. When she came back, Connor had coaxed Rex into landing, and was gently scratching under the lizard's chin. She retook her place by him, waiting for more.

"You were right, Abby. You're always right." He told her. "You didn't like her from the start. I should have listened to you."

"I didn't like her because…" Abby swallowed and finally admitted it to herself the same time she admitted it to him, "I was jealous." His eyes met hers in surprise. "You were excited and paying her attention, and you even managed to ask her out for a drink without any trouble. You never… you never asked me for a drink." She couldn't read his face, so she just soldiered on. "And I know why she tried to talk to you after – because you're a hero, Conn. You ran in there, and you risked your life to save Stephen. It was… it was awful watching the medics work on you." Her breath hitched in her chest, remembering those terrifying moments. "I thought you were dying."

"Abbs…"

She shook her head, no longer able to speak, and Connor reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a half-hug. She wasn't crying, but if she kept talking, she'd lose it completely. With a huff, she stood and went back into the kitchen, fetching the tea tray. When she returned, Connor grinned up at her.

"So … if you don't mind helping me back down the stairs…. can I take you out to dinner tonight?" he asked.

* * *

Stephen limped across the ARC from the biology lab towards his office. One poor _steropodon_ quite literally had had the shit scared out of it, and Stephen was always a big proponent of what could be learnt from fecal analysis.

"Stephen." He turned to see Cutter coming towards him. "What have you got there?"

"Microbe report from the steropodon feces." Stephen waved the pages.

Cutter smirked. The SAS guys might think Stephen was nuts for his thing about feces, but like any good zoologist, Stephen took his learning opportunities where he could. "Why don't you leave that be for now, and come have a drink with me?" he asked.

The younger man stared at him. It was the first genuinely friendly gesture Cutter had made since Helen's inappropriate revelation several months ago. However, the zoologist knew better than to pass up the chance to regain some of the tight bond he and Nick had shared for so many years.

"Yeah! Just let me get my jacket."

END

_To Be Continued in the Sequel: "Baiting Becker"_


End file.
